The Belle of The Ball
by Glorioux
Summary: After the war, Hermione's parents get killed by Death Eaters and she inherits. A good deed to the Weasley backfires and Hermione decides a change is needed, she wants Harry who loves her but hangs on to Ginny, and decides to make him jealous, at the party they are going. But at the party she sees Lucius, and things go wrong since the first moment. Mature readers please.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: HP belongs to JKR

After the war, Hermione's parents get killed by Death Eaters and she inherits. A good deed to the Weasley backfires and Hermione decides a change is needed, she wants Harry and decides to make him jealous, with Lucius.

A tale with a twist, where the Malfoy blond might not get the witch, this is not a triad story, or at least it seems that way. It might be a Harmony, but one with a few detours or maybe a deviation? Anything goes. A filler up while I work in RL. It is all written 17,000 words. Hermione decides to be a bit more assertive with wizards with unexpected consequences. Lucius has a main role, but it is Harmony, sort of.

**Harry's Dream**

In his recurrent dream, she was married to that two timing, good for nothing loser, fame seeker, Ron Weasley, and that was so not going to happen; and besides she could not see Ginny with Harry.

After that horrible day, her relationship with the Weasleys would never be the same. The fall-out with Ron was quickly followed by _the blowout _with the clan's matriarch, the now Lady Weasley. She wished not to miss the wretched Harridan, but she did, and was afraid that she would miss her for the rest of her life. Maybe one day she could make up with Molly, then things would be perfect, maybe one day. She remembered that day and the events to follow, glad that Harry's dream had been so wrong.

**The making of Lady Weasley-**

**At the Burrow **

One of Arthur's fourth cousins, thrice removed, had died at the tender age of 158. To Arthur's surprise, since he had never heard of the highlander, he was the closest living male relative; an inherited Muggle title came along with a dilapidated Manor and some decent funds to maintain it. The land had brought a little money and lots of airs, plus a large cellar full of Muggle wines, a vast collection of finely oak-aged-firewhiskey barrels, and three elves on top of that. Luck was finally smiling upon the Weasley Family.

The firewhiskey barrels were the unexpected moneymakers, a real boon. Jovian Weasley had stopped drinking at the age of 24 after he suffered an episode of alcohol poisoning. He had inherited the whiskey from his father's small distillery outside of Edinburgh. It was nicely aged and mellowed, 112 year old at the very least, the year when his father had passed and last purchased any spirits.

When the word got around each sold for an average of 450 galleons per .75 liter, and each barrel was around 115.6 liters, give or take. He divided one barrel amongst his children; to include four liters each for Hermione and Harry, make that six, behind Molly's back.

At the end, he was left with a little under 1.5 million Galleons from the whiskey sales, 2 cases of Burgundy reds over 40 years old, and the land where the Manor stood. Over half of the barrels and one of the cases of wine were sold to an anonymous buyer, another of wine cases to some-other anonymous buyer, and the rest to several Death Eater families. The total windfall, at the time when the gold rate exchange was five pounds sterling per galleon, added up to a tidy sum of 7.5 million pounds sterling; a true rag to riches story.

After their lucky break, the new Lady Weasley, made sure Hermione was the first to be notified of their elevated status; which went something like this, "Perhaps it is better this way young miss, after all Ron is someone of higher breeding, and also a celebrity in his own right as the new star in the Cannon Chudleys; and let's be brutally honest dearest girl, you aren't what one could call a catch, and, there is the small matter that you cannot even compare in beauty to my Ginny."

She stopped her tirade to order one of the, new and overworked, house-elves to refresh her tea. Hermione wanted to hex her a million different ways, but it was hard to be hateful to someone dressed in some much lace; Molly looked like a culinary confection of times gone by, or a sweet fairy godmother, whatever.

"As I was saying, Ronnie, on the other hand, is now a very sought after bachelor and can do much better than you. Really darling, this way is better for all; he can now have his pick of a wide range of real ladies, all Pureblood witches; and you would be left free to find a beau of your own kind." And she smiled her new hauteur-smile, which appeared strangely out of sync with her orange robes printed with odd red shapes resembling tomatoes, and trimmed all around with matching green lace.

The entire ginger-haired clan, except Ron, was speechless at their progenitor's ranting, meanwhile, mother and sonny-boy, smirked in snooty satisfaction; even Ginny gave her mother a disagreeable stare.

And that was that, Hermione Apparated back to her grandparent's home at Muggle London to cry her eyes out, but not before dropping the big one. The words left her mouth like a herd of wild horses spooked by lightning.

"For your information new Lady of the Borrow, I have always thought of you as my own family and hid the fact that I am, and have always been, Lady Hermione. So, if you want titles, I will drop you a few, both of my parents came from the German, French and British royal families, but as children of the 60's did not want special treatment. And it is not dearie, to you it is Lady Hermione Granger, ninth-cousin-four times removed to the Royal Queen, amongst other foreign titles."

She stood up in front of Molly, with her chin up, and holding a pose learned during summer lessons during her formative years. Her parents wanted her to be presented and be a debutante; although they personally were against it, it was her grandparent's dream, and she was presented shortly after the war ended. Her partner that night was Harry who had known her secret for a long time.

Standing in her practiced pose, she irradiated confidence, and all of them felt intimidated, this was not the Hermione they knew. Arthur would later say that he felt like going in one knee in front of her.

Molly was shaking at seeing the angry magic discharges along the room. She looked around to get support from her family, and, to her dismay, she saw utter resentment coming out several sets of blue eyes. She felt Arthur's cold look, and felt the bond that held them together fracture in several places; her family wasn't hers any longer and would never be the same.

She had shown them the Pureblood attitude that they had fought against; the only support left was from her younger two children, and barely from Ginny who had her own agenda. Needless to say that Arthur felt it was a personal insult to Fred, his beloved son who had given his life for the fight for equality.

Unfortunately Hermione couldn't stop her mouth once she started, "We own estates, summer and winter homes here and in the continent, and if I'm not mistaken we own a couple of small islands. For now, until I have children, I am heir to several fortunes, we are only three cousins, one lives in Australia, and the other in California. I have not come into all the properties, because they are still owned by elderly relatives; however, since there are only four older survivors from the two families, the three of us will inherit some." She tried to stop by a look at Molly, and she kept going.

"I have vaults at Gringotts, whose value I won't disclose to you because it is in poor taste, and they are only a fraction of my net-worth. True, my holdings don't come close to the Malfoys, I am a pauper compared to them, and by no means I am that far up." She inhaled a deep breath, her hair flying and cracking, was a sight to see. "Is that good enough for you Lady Weasley, do I pass the test?"

And she wished she had bitten her tongue because her next words hurt Arthur a person she truly loved and respect. She broke the golden rule; _never speak while you are angry, _in a big way.

"And who do you think bought the Firewhiskey and the property, and the wine at twice its real worth. And all the deposits—oh gods, forgive me for the last, I did not mean to say it. I don't regret the money I would give you that and even more if you would have taken it from me." At this she stopped, her eyes were full of tears, and she wanted to throw up, what had she said?

Why had she told the group most of her secrets, her parents, and her grandmother would have been mortified to see how badly she had behaved; how unkind she had been to the ones she loved as her own kin, why did she let her tongue go? They were her only real family. That was not their way. It wasn't her way to tell people what had been done for them.

She still felt sad for Molly, but not less angry. Hermione knew it was Fred's death that made her so strange, so different. She wanted her Molly back, the mother of all, the bad knitter, the warm witch who was the best cook she had ever met, not this horrible impostor of a beloved witch. Oh where, or where had her Molly go?

"Bill, Fleur, George, Angelina, Ginny and Harry, I will be moving today to my parents' place, and Floo will be open for each of you. Please tell Charlie that he is always welcome, and I would love to have him stay. No need to tell Percy, I will see him soon enough; he just quit his job to help me manage my holdings and is moving with his wife to one of my families flat's near mine. We were going to tell you all this coming week." She turned around towards Arthur, who appeared very upset.

"Lord Weasley, if you can dare to leave your lovely dear behind, you may come as well. I will send my owl with the information once I am settled. At my parent's funeral you told me to think of you as my father, I hope that has not changed, forgive my unkind and untoward words. " At this point, the tears started again.

"And as for you two, my Lady Weasley and my dear Ron, do not concern your tiny little heads, full of hot air, may I add. Please, you don't have to stoop yourselves down to my level and won't have to see me again, Ta-Ta, dear darlings." The bravado was gone out of her voice, she was broken hearted, her voice was absolutely broken, and she wished to have kept her mouth shut.

Saying this, she left but she could hear whinny Ron, "Hermione, love—I did not, wait," poof, and she was gone.

**-Home sweet Home-**

She Apparated at her parent's home, not the one in suburban London, that one had been destroyed by renegade Death Eaters at the end of the war, but at their ancestral home, which was vacated when her dear paternal grandparents, left this world; their hearts had been broken when her parents died. The autopsy did it; the report showed that her mother 43 year-old month was 18 weeks pregnant, and she had died from the extensive torture inflicted upon her.

She missed them all and felt so old. Her parents who had lived suburban live, always ashamed of their wealth and told everyone they were middle class. They had told Hermione early in life that people would love you because of your money, but behind you they really resented you. They said the money wasn't their own and to the end lived their believes.

Why, oh why had she hurt the Weasleys she loved with her runaway tongue? She was glad, that she hadn't added about all the war donations and awards to each of the Weasleys, and all her friends and professors to help them along. Everyone was by his or her accounts 'rich' with his or her new money.

What she wanted was a family and friends, and sometimes she had wondered if she was buying them, but everything had been secretive. Her tongue sure wasn't secretive in the least bit, it was a runaway tongue and she was one nasty witch; Draco Malfoy was a babe in the woods after her today's performance.

She had even paid for Ron's placement with his Quidditch dream team; and she truly had loved Molly as her mother; the pain squeezed her heart inside a strong vise; she still loved the impostor. Something had not been right with Molly since Fred, she had lost what held her together, or maybe what was always there came up.

Ron, oh Ron, there was a time she would have died for him; but the fame, the award money, and the witches had killed what she had for him. She had wanted his babies, his love, and was willing to overlook his entire shortcomings, but fame had blinded him, and the Ron she loved was all gone.

She just flopped onto the couch, cried in anger, and nearly chocked on her tears. Her sobs were sad to hear, and the many recent wounds opened again.

She hadn't felt so alone in a long time, and she would have lain there for hours, had it not been for a small tongue attempting to greet her and dry her tears. Small, insistent, hairy paws, and a small fluffy head, insisted to open a trench between her hands, the actions accompanied by a serenade of tiny growls and whimpers.

"Lady Hermione, vat are you doing in zie dark, I did not hear you kome, und mein Junge Frau, you are a Lady, Vogesen nicht", the old German Butler talked to her in a low voice, and he gave her a perfectly ironed linen handkerchief to dry her tears, and next she heard a female voice.

"Dear me, nobody is worth those tears; what you need my dear girl is a pot of hot tea and perhaps a spot of Sherry? May I tempt you with just baked warm biscuits, or with clotted-cream scones? How about a bottle of hot water, my dear sweet angel," Frau Bertha cooed to her; and, it felt good to be cared for.

"Dieter, be a dear, light up the fire, bring her a spot of Cognac, Sherry is for easier occasions. Should we call Herr Dr. Schneider, my dear girl?"

The mongrel digging into Hermione had finally made a small dent, just big enough to stick her tongue into Hermione's, "YUCK, you naughty girl!" She giggled, and the tears slowly dried up.

"Sorry about the tears, I had a horrible afternoon. Did you know that I really thought of Molly as my other mother, and to think I choose to spend so many holidays with them instead of with my parents."

And at these words, the tears started once more; her voice filled with regret when she recalled Ron, and all the times she had been at the Burrow chasing after him; at least before she realized who her true love was. Maybe all had happened because she had wanted too much; more than most everything she had wished to fit in the Wizarding world.

_**Bertha and Heinz- Surrogate Parents**_

The older couple, the Schmidt, left over from her Grandparents, came along with the place. Just as the country home in France came with the respective attendants, and the Finca in España with matching couple and workers. She sighted, accepting a hot towel from Frau Schmidt and dried her face. Then the older lady put fresh cucumber slices her eyes, _to refresh her eyes from the tears_, and a hot towel steamed with chamomile infused water.

"Mein Gott, für die Heiliger Maria, Meine liebe Tochter...Ich wird diesen jungen Manne vermodern. Unser geliebtes Mädchen, Sacrament! " Herr Schmidt was irate, and when he was, he reverted to his Southern German persona, and this pleased Hermione. She had heard stories of his prowess, and he made her feel safe, pity Ron if he had the unfortunate idea to come by. The 61 years old, son of the caretaker of her German estate was a still handsome, tall man with perfect posture; Harry joked that when he relaxed in the privacy of their suite, he probably slouched. His wife Bertha, an American-Irish, was some years his junior.

Bertha's Irish born mother had met Bertha's father in Georgia, United States when she went to visit relatives. Her father was in the military, and was sent to Germany after the WWII, during the late fifties. She had sister and a brother, and she met Heinz during her father's German tour. Heinz worked at the estate owned by her grandmother's family. The estate that now belonged to Hermione was located near Munich. They both loved their young miss with fierce and loyal hearts, especially since they had no children of their own; and Hermione had always loved them as relatives.

Bertha worried all the time. The wee young Mistress, their beloved young Lady was so alone, and the truth be told, she was a little strange and secretive. Perhaps the old Masters had been right, and the young Lady had been allowed to join a Druid cult by her hippie-druggie parents, hmm.

But that was not the issue, it mattered none, she liked the New Age culture, and she thought the young Miss and her friends were practicing Druids, and they had strange powers, so be it. She had even seen a stick, something like a magic wand. She had her suspicions.

That wasn't the issue, they didn't care about it; it was her sadness that worried them, and since they had no children, they had naturally assumed a parental role. They wished she would trust them more.

She needed them; she didn't have anyone else, or only her parent's friends, and they needed her and were there; it was the natural order of things. She knew their love was disinterested, after all, they didn't need any money; her grandparents had left them a large inheritance, to them and the caretakers of their other large estates. They also inherited a large apartment in the center of the city where he had been born, a nice place.

Hermione thought that maybe that was the reason her father's family always had so much, they had been philanthropists, forever. Grandfather had said you get back twice what you give away, as long it is to make good, and not to buy off favors. Her father used to say it was to clean the old blood money. Their families got rich during the colonial times.

They all heard a loud pop coming from the next room, and a few seconds later, the wild-raven-hair young man, friend of their mistress walked into the drawing room. Harry noticed their glances (after several times of the strange appearances, no questions were asked), and he just shrugged his shoulders apologetically, "Halo Hermione, I am so sorry. You know Molly didn't mean it, she just loves her children, and they never do wrong in her eyes. She seemed contrite when I left them."

Heinz and Bertha left at once while they shook their heads in disapproval. That Lady Molly, she shouldn't come around if she didn't want to find out what was good for her.

X0x

Next chapter in a couple of days. Let me hear from you


	2. the other woman

**Disclaimer: HP is JKR's property.  
**

Those who have been jealous of others can see the difficult place where Hermione finds herself. I am confident that she will find her way out, or at least that she will try.

* * *

The Other Woman

He sat next to her, and put her feet on his lap. He rubbed her ankles distractedly; not knowing each touch was fire on her skin and awoke the never ending ache to feel him inside her; nevertheless, she let him, why not. She really needed to bring this to an end, hopefully soon, very soon.

Harry continued, "I told you it was a bad idea. I knew that it would be better just give them the money and tell them the truth; if you had followed my advice you would have avoided a lot of pain. You have done the same for everyone else, so why is that you don't want your friends to thank you? I know your plans to help rebuild our world, but you don't have enough, neither do I. Yes, we might have more than others, but we don't have those sorts of fortunes. If we did that, we would need to be given some back just to make a living." He chuckled and she huffed.

"Why cannot you let others be thankful? It won't kill you. As a matter of fact, it would be worth it if only to see the faces of the Slytherins, or Viktor's parents, the idiots. It would be priceless." He smiled wickedly

Bertha was back to pick up the white fluffy creature lying across Hermione's belly, cheerfully chewing the strings of her leather belt, unbeknownst to the owner.

The attempt to remove the small hellion failed, and after a couple of nasty growls and a near missed furious nip. "No biting, bad little girl" Hermione giggled, and Harry lifted his eyebrow and expelled a noisy "HRPMPHHH."

End of the story, Minerva, the small Shit-zu terror, stayed right where she belonged, with her new human; and Bertha excused herself once again, but not before eyeing Lord Potter, _she had his number, and he needed to thread lightly; the young Lord was nothing but trouble. Heinz had said it well, "With his hands on her sweet girl, and then going around kissing the other young lady. I have seen it when I pick her up." Yes, Heinz was right, the young Lord was a playboy, and he needed to be careful with her Lady's heart_. And after these thoughts, Bertha knew what to say.

"Lord Potter, I hope your young friend, the young lady with the ginger hair, is doing well and in good health," Bertha said before leaving with her eyes on his, and she gave him a crossed, sorrowful look before leaving_. If he wants her, he should not play around with others._ She thought as she was leaving. Her words were wasted because Harry didn't hear one word.

"Hermione, you shouldn't have left in such anger; poor Ginny, she was all in tears because you threw your money on their faces and made them feel inadequate." He added reproachfully.

"Are you for real Harry? You are worried about Ginny when Molly basically called me a Mudblood that should find her own kind? What is my own kind? I never mentioned money; okay, never mind…I simply stated that I always had titles and money, but my parents taught that money is nothing but a means to live better, see how they lived, like hippies, rich ones, but still the same."

She knew that she had done wrong, but was unable to admit her guilt to Harry, and besides, why was he always defending Molly and Ginny, what a bore.

"My parents taught me that titles and blood are nonsense, or have you not just fought for all of the same? If money had mattered, I wouldn't have made up the Arthur cousin's story. Today was a mistake, I was too angry. " Minerva growled at Harry; he had it coming because she didn't like the way he was looking at her human.

Harry coughed once or twice sounding irritated, walked to the bar table to choose from one of several heavy glass decanters. He looked at the calligraphy labels, grabbed a couple pieces of ice from the small freezer under the crystal table, dropped them in a heavy tumbler, and poured himself two fingers of a fine single malt Hermione's grandfather had been fond of it. Then he pushed Hermione's legs aside, and sat by her even closer this time. His arm went around her shoulder and played with her hair and sensually caressed her neck, his nose flaring, and she could hear him breathing faster.

He turned his body sideways and sighed; he was conflicted with his feelings, Hermione's closeness was intoxicating, making him wish for those days when he was allowed to escalate into full blown sex, but he knew better than to try. Not now, especially not now with the latest incident. Ron completely out the way, made him afraid of Hermione falling in love with someone else, what would he do?

Hermione was thinking about the cursed four bottles that started the war, now in locked section of the bar, and the other two were well hidden behind. Funny, when they bought the old rickety estate, they had not looked in the cellar; the whiskey was a finding. The one finding they wished for, but they had found them a little too late, and had been able to remove three barrels before Arthur came in the cellar minutes behind them. And now they had those and other casks in the cellar, after re-purchasing them from Arthur.

She sighed and threw one of his legs his lap again; her bum against his thigh, while he stretched his feet on a footrest; and as in queue the small white wolf jumped in his lap and proceeded to lick Harry's hands. Minerva forgave quite fast; she was young, one and a half years old.

He was annoyed, and she was even more. However, Harry knew when not to push Hermione, he knew her rages, and he didn't want to be at the receiving end, and he decided to change the conversation, trying to also forget how much he was wanting her body.

"So, at what time are we leaving for the reception? I need to go back to the Borrow to pick up Ginny once I get ready." His hand went to her calf once again, and Hermione held her breath. He moved closer to her and placed his hand under her chin, to look at her closely.

"I don't know why you don't move back to 12 Grimmauld. After all the money we both spend on the place to make it grand once again. I don't mind spending a few evenings here, but Ginny gets upset, and I hate to live alone, c'mon love."

He pouted, and she tried to ignore how cute he looked. Her eyes nearly close to his face, she could smell his cologne, the one she had bought for his birthday just a few weeks ago. She concentrated to answer his question.

"Why? Because I don't want to chance meeting that slug once again, or heaven forbids, have to be in the same room with the Grand Lady of the Manor, next time she might demand a courtesy," and at this they both started to laugh, and Minerva joined in by taking runs around the room.

"We leave at 7:00 sharp, we need to be there no later than 7:30. We have to arrive by Muggle transport, hence Herr Schmidt will be driving us today, probably in one of the limos." She smiled, waiting for the known response.

"Are we taking the Rolls, please say we are," Harry replied with the enthusiasm of a young child. "Ginny will be so excited; she will feel like a princess."

"Or a Lady considering her mum," Hermione answered with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Hermione closed her eyes for a few minutes mentally getting ready to get ready for the night to come. She wished to have turned down her father's old friend invitation. They had gone to school together, and the families had been friends forever. He was a third or fourth cousin, as well as her godfather.

But her godfather, Winslow, had grown out of his hippie years and had embraced a traditional style of life. After attending her parents' funeral, they opened their home to Hermione. Her parents that according to the Muggle police report—had opened their home to a serial killer who had tortured and killed them.

Hermione knew who had done it, it had been Dolohov, and they, Harry and her, were going to take care of him as soon as soon as he was found. She had paid a group recommended by Viktor to find him and hoped the day would arrive soon. Viktor whose parents thought she wasn't good for their son, the story of her life.

She felt lonely, even though her parents' childhood and school friends were forever trying to find a suitable match for her. They had never met Ron, mostly, because his increased popularity. Ron had been unable to find the time to escort his girlfriend, Hermione, in her Muggle social life. Only Harry had shown interest in her life; and now she wished that she had not given him up to Ginny so easily. Lately, she had realized how much she really loved him, and she hungered for a stable physical relationship with him.

She loved Ginny and knew of her fatal attraction. She was truly star struck and wanted the entire Harry package, complete with his Gringotts' vaults; she was after all Molly's daughter.

She confided in Hermione, after the battle, that she couldn't live without Harry, and she dreamed for the day she would become Lady Potter. She had been shortsighted, and in the midst of severe infatuation with Ron had graciously given Harry up.

For a long time, she believed that her intense on and off, mostly off, sexual liaison with Harry was nothing but that, a sexual relief valve to let steam off; whereas the real truth was that sex with Harry was an act of intense love making, transcending physical boundaries. They were both idiots in love with each other but too blind to see the truth if their life depended upon it. They needed a catalyst, an eye opener, something to make the see before one of them married the 'wrong' person.

What a fool she was, she kept telling herself in a self-pity attack, always second runner-up in the love department. But of course, a know-it-all, bushy hair, large bum, short girl, could not wish for more; Well, to demonstrate the extent of her folly, her hair had grown past her middle back, and now was tamed and beautiful, thanks to a new brand of products recently introduced by Cecile, Lord M—'s daughter.

Moreover, she was her worse judge; in reality she was her mother's daughter, very beautiful, an English rose, but she had always been at odds with her body and her beauty.

The ladies at the spa she frequented with Cecile, told her that bum was perky and way sexy; and the witches at the 'find your beautiful witch" parlor, where Pansy had been taking her since the war ended, told her the same. As for her height, she was almost 5 feet, 4 inches with small bones, and considered a perfect petite. Her facial bone structure was delicate and perfect, if the beauty specialist could be believed.

So, why was it that she was never asked by any of the eligible gorgeous men out there? Hmm, she sighed, "Maybe I don't want to go. What is the sense, I will be dateless once again, just another boring night."

Unknown to Hermione, her lack of suitors was mostly Ginny's doing; who would tell available and interested bachelors that Hermione was taken. The reason was simple, Ginny wanted Hermione to marry a Weasley in order to keep an eye on her; she was a believer of keeping her enemies close, and she had caught Harry's roving eye more than once.

If that wasn't enough, many occasions, he had screamed, "Mimi," during the orgasmic rush, "I tried to say mine, mine, I just could make complete sentences; besides who is Mimi?" He would ask coolly, and Ginny would have to apologize every time.

Luckily for Harry, he was the only that knew that nickname. It was the way her family called her from the time when she was little, it was one of the first words she learned along with book and want, "Mimi wans buk."

Harry, Harry, more than once, after too many single types of malt would end up sleeping with her. He would sneak in her bed. "Mimi, my love, just hug me, I am scared." He was scared, many days and many nights, he truly was. And, although she had finally put a stop to it after her parents died, his being scared and coming to her bed had not ended.

At the start of their new phase, he respected her wishes. But as of lately, the hugs were getting tighter, and in the morning time, invariably, his hand was covering one of her breast, under her pajama top, and over her bare flesh, and the other hand flushed on her lower belly, under the pajama bottoms. If that wasn't bad enough, he had never uttered an apology; and furthermore, he pressed his hard arousal on her bum while breathing hard. All that behavior had to end. At least that is what Hermione kept thinking, and everyday his hand lowered a little more.

"C'mon Hermione, please let's go, Ginny has her heart set on this, she has never gone to a real Muggle palace for a ball, and you told her the Muggle Royals might be there." He begged.

Ginny, Ginny, Molly…She was sick of what they wanted it. But little Ms. Push-over, never say no, afraid to loose her ONLY friend, "Okay, be here in two hours, and, please be punctual; it is at my Godfather's home."

On their Way-

Ginny and Harry had arrived on time, and Ginny was speechless after her short visit of the 'flat,' which really was very large townhouse in the middle of an exclusive London area. She had come just to the door before to wait for her, just because she had never wanted to come in and preferred to stay outside looking at the Muggles passing by.

As for Harry, he was thunderstruck when he saw he first saw Hermione. His mouth was open, and he was nearly panting and seemed a little flushed. She caught him pulling his trousers' crotch down, but Ginny didn't, because she was too busy giving Hermione dirty looks. Hermione wanted him badly and wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Hermione wished to find a hot-shag tonight, and, hopefully, she would make him truly sick with jealousy. Yes, that sounded excellent. Hmm, perhaps he would come begging on his knees. And just like that, the idea became her evenings' goal, to have Harry begging her.

And just like that, she made that her evenings' goal.

She was certain that Ginny still loved Dean, and unknown to everyone; she had helped Dean in his career. His pictures were now sold all around the Magical world and many of them had made it in the Muggle World; he was rather wealthy, a fact that Ginny hadn't followed.

Hermione always sent Dean Invitations to all those events wherever Ginny and Harry were invited, but he never came. Her plan hadn't worked, and she didn't regret helping Dean, although more positive results would have been welcomed.

Maybe tonight Dean would show up; so many lose ends, and so many maybes. Pansy, her new friend, wasn't always right; she had told her the idea was brilliant and it was a sure way to get rid of Ginny.

They both looked picture perfect. Harry was handsomely attired in a Muggle suit of the finest cashmere and silk blend, a slim fit showing his great body, a gray and white shirt, a red and gold tie and a waistcoat made out fine silk brocade.

Hermione wore a Muggle gown made of yards, and yards of chiffon, Audrey Hepburn like. A tight strapless bodice, with a band across the breast embroidered in clear crystals in a darker color iridescent metallic organza. It was an intense purple color, and the band had hues of purples and blue. She wore five inch platforms made of heavy silk, resembling delicate boots with small silk roses in the back ankle closure and the open toes revealed enamel of the same light purple color of her dress and matched with the short square manicured nails.

Her hair had been braided by the woman who used to fix her grandmother's hair, she had come earlier and had done her eyebrows, a facial, fixed her nails, and put up her hair in intricate French braids with color wires beaded with crystals and seed pearls and small silk roses, making her look like a princess out of a romantic fairy tale.

The make-up was smoky matching her ensemble, resembling a mask, and her lips sported the same color of her nails, deep red, nearly black. She had cheated, the perfect color matching, and expert make up were the product of a few charms, and the shoes came from an exclusive Diagon Alley, cushioned and charmed not to pinch your feet. And from the same shop, came the long and dainty handbag, for her wand, attached to her waist.

The tension didn't improve, when Harry remarked "Ginny, you should have listened and gone shopping with Hermione instead of that new boutique at the Alley with your mom. See how she looks? She will be the belle of the ball."

Harry was not being mean, he was kind and generous to a fault, but he lacked of social graces and many times said what came to mind. He turned towards Ginny, "Maybe Hermione could loan you one of her dresses that looks more Muggle than yours. You look beautiful as well, but not Muggle enough," Harry said trying to get the foot out his mouth.

While Ginny changed, after trying all her best gowns, she had chosen one that was too long for Hermione and big on the chest, so it was perfect for Ginny. Dark brown, the color of chocolate, with gold threads, made Ginny look rather stunning.

While Ginny changed, Mr. Ratty Potter came and hugged Hermione's shoulders; and kissed with a semi-opened mouth her along her back, pressing his hips to her bum. She couldn't help but feel his burgeoning erection getting harder by the minute, what to do?

"I was remembering that picnic, right after the war, when you came with the dress your mother brought you from Italy. You felt so good, remember, loving under that tree." He nuzzled her neck, and she was paralyzed with desire, her lower body melting, and she hated herself for loving him and being so weak.

Yes, she remembered that day. The first time she had held him in her mouth, "_Do you know about pleasuring with your mouth," he had asked her, while he pulled her knickers down to give her a demonstration, "We can do it to each other," he had whispered…. _her body clenched with desire, curse him.

His next words had the desired effect, "Mimi, love, I do wish I could be with you instead, but what can I do, pleas tell me, I am lost." He whispered her while he pressed unto her, even harder.

Hermione pushed him away, "There is plenty you could do if you wanted. But you are in love with Molly's cooking, and with the entire Weasley family. Marry them and leave me alone. And please don't come to my room tonight, if you are afraid, you must be afraid alone. And if the Voldie-man comes to get you, turn on the light, and be a big boy."

"I do have nightmares, and you will never let me suffer alone." He refused to argue, he had no shame.

She was preparing herself for his nightmares; they were true, but they also happened whenever she went out on of a date. Last time it had been way too close, she was extremely vulnerable to Harry. She remembered that night when she had gone out with an old friend.

"_Harry, what are you doing," she had whispered at being awoken before dawn. Harry was kissing her naked back. She drank a few glasses of wine and fell asleep naked. One hand played with her breast, and the other hand caressed her lower belly. She could feel his naked erection nudging between her legs. "Shh, don't say anything, I need you, please, just let me feel, only that, I promise. Please." _

_She nearly had, if not for the fact that she remembered Ginny. "Harry, you are with Ginny, aren't you." He didn't answer, and his fingers caressed her insistently, two fingers inside her, his hips thrusting forward, "You feel so good, oh love, let me in, I must, please, " he had made her body ready for him and was nearly inside her, but she had the strength to pull away; and after a few minutes he had gone back to his own bed._

_She cried that night—this couldn't continue. _No, no, she didn't want this anymore, she felt as if she was the other woman. She wanted him all the way or not at all; it was neither fair to Ginny nor to her.

Luckily it was time to go, they left the house by the back entrance; Herr Schmidt came around to open the door, and helped Hermione to enter the car. Harry exhaled with frustration, he wished for things to be different, but felt unable to change.

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The things we do for love, Harry is behaving badly, and Hermione is going to put an end to it, I hope. I think there are two more chapter after this, the rest is a bit too long for one chapter. Let me hear from you.


	3. The Party and The Blond

I agree that Hermione lets too many take advantage of her, but she does it for the wrong reasons, because she loves them. However, here, she will fight back, or so I hope. After this chapter there are around 6,000 words left. My humble thanks to all those who have reviewed. If you follow Malfoys and Mates, there will be a chapter either today or tomorrow.

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**The Party and The Blond  
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Ginny, looking marvelous in her Muggle dress, couldn't contain the ohs and ahs at the shinny car, and she was dazzled when Harry gallantly opened the small refrigerator in the back of the Rolls; he opened a bottle of an old elven wine that he brought from the Black cellars and served them in dainty goblin-glass wine glasses, which they drank while they rode to the party.

In the limo, he sat next to Hermione, supposedly so, "I can stretch the leg hurt during the last Auror mission," but the truth is that he wanted to sit close to Hermione; and his real wishes were to casually move his fingers along her neck and back, pressing them with desperate lust against her soft skin; thus, once he stretched his right arm and held the wine in the left hand, that was what he did, caress her and set her skin on fire.

_What a crock, and what a fool I am_. Hermione thought, but she did nothing to stop him.

Ginny was too much in awe to pay attention, looking out the windows while Harry's eyes kept trying to look down Hermione's cleavage, and he was rewarded with glances of her fair nipples if he looked hard enough.

Harry was tormented; he had been trying to be with her for over two months, he would pretend to go to sleep and stay so while she was still out cold, and he would caress her breasts and her torso while thrusting his hard cock against her bum; and it was agony, he also was torturing himself.

He was in a state of perpetual need. Ginny didn't do it for him and hadn't for a long time. He just really didn't know how to let Ginny down gently. He was a chicken; the boy- that-died-and-came-back, was afraid of Molly and Ginny, and that was a fact.

Susi, an old friend from Hermione's summer schools, had told her, "What is good for the goose, it's good for the gander. Make the lad jealous, take a lover for a while, it might be fun. Look at Marietta, she was after Lloyd for years, and the day she started dating Ray, he started paying attention. "

She forgot to mention that Marietta married Ray in the end, after dating Lloyd and finding out they weren't sexually compatible, if only. She knew that sex with Harry was the best, damn.

The ratty lad and bad-boy, actively, pressed his hip against hers. He bent over to refill the glasses, but first he had made sure that Ginny was mesmerized looking the night London streets, refilled her glass, and waved his hand, probably to keep Ginny distracted.

Next, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and pressed it against his hardness in a quick move, and then leaned over and whispered hoarsely, "All for you my love, I need you, touch me, please…" and then put her hand inside his pocket while he closed his eyes. He had done magic, the pocket was gone, and she held his cock right in her hand; yes, it was hard, leaking, and eagerly waiting for her.

She hated herself, but she was enjoying this. Harry could turn her into a pile of goop most of the time, and this was no different. However, today was a bit different, although she was gushing for him, she wanted to punish everyone, including Harry; she wanted revenge.

Harry, to her chagrin, was a great lover and extremely well endowed, much more than Ron or Charlie, and he was fire in bed. Gods, she wanted the darn wizard, but not until he was free from attachments, not a second before. She had decided that around three months before, around the time when she moved in her grandparents' home, and had stuck to her resolution, thus far.

_She only had one concern, which person was going to suffer the effects of the revenge—she was, that was the answer. The reason was simple; she was in love with the scoundrel. Hmm, now, if she could find someone to shag tonight, no strings attached, she would do it. Let him suffer as she often had. What the heck, she was suffering already, why else would her knickers be soaked, and there was not enough material to prevent some leakage along her thigh, great; and she would get zero relief. Or she would, if she could find the right person. _

_GRRRR…the things she did to herself. What witch on her right mind invites the wizard she has loved since she was eleven to be her roommate, and while he is engaged to a super-gorgeous witch? She did, that was who. As far as Harry went she was a doormat, a pushover, but today she would show him._

Meanwhile, she continued touching Harry, whose eyes were closed. Bloody hell, he was beautiful, even while he was gritting his teeth. She could feel his body rising to meet her hand and the tremors along his thigh, gods. The scoundrel, amazingly, managed to come, right in her hand. She felt short of breath and felt intense dislike for Hermione, that foolish witch, herself. To be honest, she also was one ultra-nasty witch for allowing this to happen. She blamed Harry for taking advantage of her feelings.

At last they had arrived. Ginny could not believe the crowds, everyone seemed to be reaching out to touch them, and cameras were going on everywhere. She was amazed to find out Hermione was being chased by Muggle reporters who wanted to know if Harry was her date. "Hermione, you are famous, a celebrity, and I know you, and you are my friend, you and Harry, wow!" Ginny was star-struck, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

Once they were in, Harry and Ginny left her to look around, full of curiosity and awe. Hermione was grabbed by Cecile who, after kissing her, told her, "Darling, I never seen you looking more beautiful, you look like a fairy_."_

_No, not a fairy, a witch, a very nasty dark, nasty witch, who just gave my best friend, who happens to be engaged, a hand job while his fiancée sat in the same car_, those were Hermione's thoughts, as Cecile pulled her along to introduce her to, "some sexy men to die for."

Hermione, tried to visually locate Harry and Ginny, but it was impossible; the place was brimming with guests. So she thought, "Bah…let them find me," besides she was extremely annoyed with Harry after the car ride, she was certain that he had come and had cleaned them both with a wandless; in her book, she needed to be spanked. And her eyes glazed with a visual, remembering something naughty, _spanked by Harry, no, never mind, stop your dirty thoughts bad witch; yes_, she was incorrigible. She politely smelled her fingers to make sure she was 100% clean, darn, too bad that she was indeed clean, oh Harry, Harry. She was hopeless, that she was.

She kept reliving the ride while Cecile talked, she couldn't stop remembering his large cock in her hand, his short shuddering breaths, and his trembling thighs…She was getting hotter and hotter; meanwhile, she was being was introduced to several short, tall, stuffy, handsome, balding, gorgeous locks, pedantic young Lords; most of them looking for a suitable companion and maybe a sexy romp after the party. Of course, a lot of them knew who she was, and, probably, the value of her portfolio. But none of them were good enough to make Harry jealous.

She needed someone who was very visible, rather well known, and preferably someone that could, potentially, make him feel entirely inadequate. She giggled at the absurdity of her plan; but she needed a change and fast.

Besides Ron she had tried to be with other wizards, and except for Charlie, the orgasms were just non-existent. Charlie could score once in a while, and he even pretended to be deaf at those moments, those moments she would later regret, when she, invariable, cried," Harry, my love, more, more." Nope, the only one with the magic wand was Harry; and he needed to either be hers, or she had to give him up altogether.

She felt confident of her looks, and she knew that she was attractive and was nearly certain that looked 'nice' tonight, but she did not know how much. The quasi-arousal made her large deep-amber eyes glow, and her lips look sultrier and fuller. More than one of the young men's trousers suddenly felt either too tight and too small.

One particularly tall and handsome friend of Cecile's asked her to dance; in the dance room the band played Latin rhythms, now one of the current favorites of the blueblood crowd. Cecile's friend was tall, blond, dark grey eyes, a strong jaw and had a perfect smile.

The piece being played was fast and sensual, and Hermione's two wines, and the glass of cold champagne, were already playing their part. "Epa, baila, menea tu cu..."

The partner, Williams, was a particular good dancer; they both were supple, athletic, and light on their feet. He was also a bit of a flirt, but rather stuffy, oh well. She shook her bum in a very sexy fashion, and when their lower bodies occasionally touched, Hermione could feel a very hard something touching her, it wasn't his billfold, of that, she was certain. And he wasn't shy; his hand caressed her body whenever he could.

Now, if one Harry would look her way, maybe, just maybe. But she scanned through the room and she was unable to find him in the crowd. Too bad my efforts are being wasted, Hermione thought.

They weren't, because he was looking and was rather unhappy; his emerald eyes threw poisoned arrows right into her back, and to add to his worries, he had spotted Dean, who had attended the party with a Muggle, not a witch. Not that he cared, but everything was conspiring against him; he just didn't want to be alone, coming with two witches and probably leaving with none.

Dean had been eying Ginny since they had arrived, and Harry had not really seen that, since all that he wanted was Hermione—"Bloody hell, and who is the tall Muggle rubbish dancing with her_?"_ He muttered under his wished that Ginny would go right now and let him go; now he wished that Dean had come alone and was pursuing Ginny; if only… Then he could grab his witch and dance with her, his witch being Hermione. And after dancing, they would find a dark corner...

Williams, whose hand kept straying down her bum, was saying something about leaving the party and going somewhere, but it was too loud to hear.

In one of the twists and turns, she thought to have seen a familiar mane of white, blond hair, and her buzz evaporated in one fast second. Then someone said to her left, better, drawled in his stuffy accent, "Evening, Miss Granger, rubbing elbows with the other half?" She suddenly felt sick, damn, was that the snake incarnated? Her stomach rumbled; damn, the monster belonged to the club that had murdered her parents, and she hated him.

What was that monster doing here? She must be drunker than she thought; yes, it couldn't be him; what would he be doing at a Muggle party? She turned to the left a little too rough; and she did a double take just to make sure whether or not it was the snake; thus, she forced her dance partner to lead her towards the voice.

Williams missed a step; he was no longer the leader, and his foot landed on hers, which caused her to stumble; and, in turn, made him lose his balance, and he had to let her go in an attempt to stay upright.

As he let her go, the momentum half-propelled her, just as winded top when one releases the tightly coiled string and it goes swirling—and there the Hermione human top went, spinning right onto someone's back.

She went forwards, remembering to land on her hands and instinctively grabbed at something or at someone as she fell. Tragically, she failed her balancing act, and BOOM, she landed on her bum, in an ungraceful splayed legs' display.

She felt her face and chest on fire; she didn't even want to look up. She could hear restrained giggles, laughs, and one very irritated familiar voice "If you don't know how to dance you should stay away from the dance floor; or is it, that you can only walk in those horrible men's boots you always wear?"

At this, she looked up in real anger and tried to pull her self up, while still holding on to whatever she had in her hand. "And quit trying to grab my arse, would you please?"

Mortified, she noticed that her hand was attached to Lucius, the Malfoy Monster, and more specifically to the seat of his tailored trousers; which now exhibited and sizeable tear, that displayed naked, alabaster-white, bum flesh. Hmm, the evil wizard went commando, yummy, very tight buttocks at that.

By this time, Williams tried to help her up, when he saw what she did, his face turned purple at the same time that a loud guffaw escaped his proper British mouth. Hermione looked at him then at Lucius bum, now barely covered by his short, ultra-fashionable jacket, and she also started laughing a bit loud.

Lucius touched the tear with his hand, and huffing, and puffing, with his nose up in the air, abandoned his dancing partner with all the dignity he could muster up. Everyone tried, unsuccessfully, to control his or her laughter as Lucius left the room, while carefully trying to hold the tear closed with his hand, a wasted effort. He turned left towards the men's rooms, and of course his short-sexy jacket only covered the top of his trousers. Translation, Lucius Malfoy was walking the halls of an old Muggle palace with his bum out for fresh air.

Hermione excused herself from Williams; clanking on the granite, then parquet, heavily walking in her strappy five-inch heels, and clumsily chased after Lucius, yes, her heels were a bit tall.

Well, he was aware that he couldn't use magic to repair the tear at this location, and he looked around for assistance. The dance had resumed and the excitement died down, once the injured party and the aggressor exited the dance floor.

"Mr. Malfoy, Lord Malfoy, please wait."

Williams stared at her, and he couldn't see her any longer went to look for Cecile to get the phone number of the super-babe. Good that she had torn the trousers of the pretentious movie personality, surely he was a producer, or an actor with bleached hair, the nasty arse. Although he looked familiar, but it couldn't be, not here, someone like him? No way. As for Lady Granger, he had been hard the moment he touched her; yes, he might have met the love of his life. It had never happened before, and she smelled so damn good, but, of course, there was that other problem.

Meanwhile, Lucius walked faster, pretending not to hear, she was still having feats of laughter every time she caught a glimpse of the naked bum, and the heels did not allow her to walk faster. As they maneuvered between attendees, she managed to say, "I can help, please stop."

At this, he turned around, and the laughter froze in her lips, his eyes were so cold and angry that she could see the Death Eater's deadly magic ready to punish the perpetrator of the perceived humiliation. Malfoys did not like to be the receivers of any ridicule, even if unintentional.

She went and grabbed his arm, but when she put her hand in his arm, she felt a frisson of pain and desire hit her right in the center of her lower abdomen and her mouth went dry. She also felt his arm tensed up and saw his hand open and close.

She looked at him for the first time tonight, and noticed what a beautiful man he was. He was dressed in Muggle formal wear, with a waistcoat made of heavy silk and velvet. His cuff links were made out of unknown stones of the same type than the buttons of the waistcoat. His hair was tied in a string of dragon leather that she recognized from a long time ago.

She pulled him to her and held his arm, then looked around for one of the attendees that worked for her godfather, since he was one of the one hosting the ball. The efficient assistant, Ms. Moore, brought them to a small sitting room, gave him a sealed package containing a spa like robe, and asked Mr. Malfoy to give her his trousers to have them repaired.

He went to the private WC and shortly thereafter came out wearing the robe. He haughtily handled his trousers to Ms. Moore, who readily asked them if they wanted a drink, food, etc? At this, Hermione suggested cognac hoping to soothe the ruffled nerves of the beast.

He sat in there glaring at her while she remembered.

_Lucius was her first crush, ever since she had seen him shopping at the Alley, the day before her first day of school. Her parents had commented he looked very stuffy, and promptly labeled him as a probable wizard lord, exactly like the aristocratic, stuffy fools they have grown-up around. But 11-year-old Hermione was in love. _

_Her first year notes were full of little hearts, with the LM/HG arrow piercing them. She even considered befriending Draco to be invited to his home and to be with his parents. Oh the innocent, as if those Pureblood racists would ever invite her to the Manor. Surely, she used to think, I am also a blue blood, but her parents had always told her that everyone has red blood. The blood issue used to be a mystery to her._

_Nothing stopped her, and she lived for the days at the train station when parents picked up the children._

_She would pull her parents hands as she tried to catch up with the Malfoy, and always tried to be her more gracious self, " Hello or Goodbye Mr. Malfoy…" And he would look at her as if she smelled of something foul._

_It was in her second year, she saw the very expensive length of leather, from a very rare blue and black dragon, being sold at a small shop at Diagon Alley. It had a charm to create circumstances so that the owner would see all the lovable qualities of the giver and foster the growth of natural feelings. The charm supposed to be concealed, and she justified it that it wasn't a love potion, but just an aid so she would be noticed._

_It cost her one-year's allowance, and a trip to the bank in order to replenish the vault from funds taken out her trust; the allowance was self-imposed, it was her way to be like Ron and the other children. Of course, all the expensive presents in the later years were always bought from summer jobs. _

_She asked Hagrid to please send it trough one of the Hogwarts' owls pretending it was a note to alert Lucius that Draco found himself in the middle of a sticky situation, and she wanted to do a good secret deed._

_Hagrid reluctantly did it, but not convinced of her intent. He had seen the young girl's eyes, and he knew another young flower had been ensnared by poisonous beauty of one Lucius Malfoy. However, he would do anything for Hermione, she was a good little witch, and one who always remembered to bring him the best shortbread biscuits and even would bring him Muggle Digestives, the ones with milk chocolate tops; and many times she included delightful orange rind sweets, and suitable treats for his entire menagerie._

_Of course, it did not work, or she thought it hadn't. However, sometime later she heard Malfoy bragging to Crabbe and Goyle," My father is the most handsome wizard, can you believe that he received a love present from a secret admirer at Hogwarts? My mother was upset, but he found it to be a very sweet gesture, and he only wears it for special occasions." _

_Those words had filled her with hope, but not for long, because soon enough she felt nothing but contempt for Lucius and his kind._

_As for Lucius he wasn't a fool, and he imagined that the young witch whoever she was, had very good taste and was sure to grow into a beautiful young lady sooner or later, and he had but to wait._

Back in the sitting room, she sighed so loud, that an irritable Lucius emitted, which sounded as, a low growl, "Can you at the very least be quiet, have you not done enough for one day?"

"I am not being loud. Besides, I am also sitting here, and if you don't like it, please leave this room." She responded haughtily.

"May I remind you that I am the one waiting for my trousers that you so viciously destroyed? If you don't know how to dance why were you in the dance floor? And if you wanted to undress me there are better ways. And pray tell, how do I suppose to go out there with a robe on?"

His hands had formed a steeple under his chin, and he was busy apprising her, as if she was a plump roasting chicken at the grocer's market.

He smirked and gave her a look up and down, a lewd and nasty one at that. "Not that I would mind if you had asked, you sure have hmmm, filled out nicely, I would say quite tasty; a lovely morsel for a hungry wizard."

Hermione found his statement crude, worth of a thug at Knockturn Alley; she guessed that she mustn't qualify for finesse.

"You better keep your mouth closed, I could do without your less than polite crude remarks. I will say this just once, please receive my totally, absolutely _insincere _apology for my clumsiness. I didn't want to undress you; and besides, had you worn underclothes, then your sorry porcelain arse would not have been so exposed to the air."

She nodded her head in a quick—_there you go_, and took a gigantic swig from the cognac tumbler. Not a wise move, since her alcohol resistance was the lowest of anyone she knew; and there it was the aggravating factor known to selected few, grape liquors tended to cut all her inhibitions.

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A/N This is a Lucius who is and will be prejudiced, but he looks good enougha to make Harry jealous. ...


	4. How to say no to your first love

Disclaimer: HP world belongs to JKR.

Thanks to those who have read and especial thanks, to those who take the time to review, it gives me an indication of what is liked and disliked and how poor or well I am doing.

In this story, I wanted to portrait a smart young witch, Hermione, who is generous and talented, but not always makes smart decisions when it involves those she loves. Many of us are just that way, it is called being human, and yes, Harry has not been admirable, but then he is also young, and sometime it takes an awakening to change, and some other times, people refuse to change. Let's see what happens.

This story goes to an old reviewer of mine, and my support, Irmorena, and those who follow my stories. Also to my dear Sava who is fighting for her life, and her challenges make my problems look like small inconveniences. You all have a great day. Smile and be happy.

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**How To Say No to your First Love**

She nodded her head in a quick: _there you go_, and took a gigantic swig from the cognac tumbler. Not a wise move, since her alcohol resistance was the lowest of anyone she knew; and there it was the aggravating factor known to selected few, grape liquors tended to cut all her inhibitions.

Not noticing how her breasts pushed out even further with her pose, she sat even straighter, thus Lucius eyes bulged out, indeed, his eyes and other parts of his anatomy, as well. His body was waking up thanks to the beauty across him.

"And besides, why is Pureblood, Muggle-hating Wizard mixing with the filthy Mudbloods?" There went her loose lips, or commonly known as— Step One of Hermione's inhibition removal process.

"For your information, my dear Miss Granger, I am now the formal Ambassador for Muggle relations due to my superior education and superb diplomacy skills" He said it with immense pride.

At this statement, Hermione choked on the cognac and gave a derisive laugh, Muggle diplomacy and Lucius, was that an oxymoron? What was Kingsley thinking about? Who would send Nero to establish relations with the hidden Christians? Or send Crosshanks, his kitty soul rest in peace, to clear the way for a nest of mice…ridiculous.

Hermione got up and started to walk around the room. She bent to lower her drink into a low table and failed to notice Lucius' gaze fixed on her. He was given a full shot of her nipples as the band slipped down before she could pull it up. The charmed closing clips had opened during the fall, and she had not yet noticed.

When she noticed, she thought, _Darn, I didn't cast the charm carefully_. After careful deliberation she figured it out; it had been Harry with his damn magic, and his maneuvering to touch her boobs.

Harry, thinking about him, a frisson of desire went through her core.

Lucius' eyes opened in surprise when he felt his cock's reaction and desire travel from stomach, to his groin, to the now throbbing arousal. How, but how, could she arise such lust from him? So strong was the feeling and so intense the ache that even his jaw hurt? He moved his jaw from side to side in disbelief; this was ridiculous. He knew better than to lie to himself, he had lusted this witch since the night at the Department of Mysteries.

All of this for a dirty Mudblood, it was unreal. He wondered how he had arrived at this junction. He guessed his ties with the witch had a long history.

He knew the cord came from her, the lady at the shop recognized it, and asked him if the young lady was a relation to him. When he described her, he knew that it was the little Mudblood. He had always wondered how did she get the 80 galleons for the cord, and where did she get the money for the way she was attired today? Her dress and jewels, well, were exquisite, in the thousands, he would guess.

And about that moment he wondered how she had sneaked in this exclusive affair. He suddenly looked up and first saw her, just as she entered the dance floor.

He remembered— _He just had heard some people talking about Lady Granger, ah, that was it, and apparently she was a Muggle blueblood. Ha, ha, as if there was such thing as blueblood. Perhaps it was correct, after all a regular Muggle, could not be a superior witch, now it made sense, and he was certain that she had some wizard blood. Moreover, it was a universal truth that many of the British noble families, had also been wizards before the witch-hunts when they decided to lay low; they were all cowards._

Feeling a little better that she might not be 100% Muggle, he reassessed his position. He looked at her, while he thought about his predicament—

_Narcissa had been a fine lover before the war, but their relationship was a mess, and she had taken lovers. Thus far, he had been faithful, but he had to be truthful, he'd nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw the beauty come in the dance floor._

_Draco had seen Miss Granger recently, at a ball, "Father, my heart nearly stopped today when I saw the Mudblood extraordinaire. Holly fuck; she is the prettiest thing I have seen in a while. If she were a Pureblood, I would cancel my marriage to what's her name. Please, let me try, it would be so much better for me."_

The pest had been begging daily to the point he wanted to hex him. "Father, I've been thinking about it, I have seen her at Diagon Alley. You know who I am talking about, I want her instead, everyone does, and you can kill my contract, do it."

_Draco had not exaggerated. However, if someone was getting out of a relationship, it was he, Lucius; after all he was the ambassador, and Draco had not yet paid his dues. He had and then some; he had been married to a Black Crazy, for many years. Moreover, if the rumors about the Mudblood were not exaggerated, a new wife, a fortune in the Muggle world, and to top it all, and a war hero; and as Draco had said, holly fuck_!

_Right at that moment, all he wanted was to sit the witch on his lap and ravish her right there and then._ _Damn if she was only a Pureblood …would it feel nasty kissing her? No way, not possible, could he have maybe a little taste? The thought of tasting a Mudblood rather repelled him, but the temptation was great. But what if she taste of something nasty, like dirty sewers._

If Hermione could have read his mind, she would have killed him.

Hermione knew that Lucius really didn't deserve her; and she was aware that her choices for wizards might not be the wisest. Sadly, the logic and smarts she applied to all her endeavors some time fell short when dealing with her love life, but tonight she was going to get some satisfaction.

The memory of Harry came back, and she was extremely annoyed, and her early idea was taking shape; she wanted Harry to be eating out her hand. She wanted his babies, but she didn't want to share him, enough was enough. So it was the time to scratch two itches. The alcohol had impaired her thinking, not realizing she was walking into quick sand, deep into a Malfoy's quick sand field.

Lucius felt rather uncomfortable, and not particularly happy about it, nevertheless his eyes were fixed on her. And when she leaned over to take her drink from the low table he got another eyeful of the beauties. Well, kind of, she had pulled out an extra clip still with a sticking charm and had the situation under control. Then she sat on the chair across from his, crossed her legs while sipping her cognac, and licked her scarlet lips.

"I am sorry if I gave you a hard time." She said with true regret.

_If you only knew, _he thought. He didn't answer and just shrugged. And instead decided to quiz her.

He decided to find it from the horse's mouth. "I heard some rumors, about you, you know about you being Lady—."

She cut him, "No, they are not rumors; this is my Godfather's home, a blood relation of sorts. And, yes, I am Lady Hermione, and a few other titles. Does that make me less of a Mudblood? Am I good enough for Lord Malfoy or for his reptilian heir?" She shook her head in disgust and drank a full sip.

"By the way, did you know that the apple of your eye has turned into a somewhat annoying stalker?" She asked him with glaring eyes.

Draco had been sending messages with Pansy, and Pansy had told her he was a waste of time since he was about to be married to Astoria Greengrass, a well-known half-wit.

"Please do not use that offensive word around me," and he boldly grabbed her hand. Hmm, _what a small and pretty hand, and so very soft, _he thought. _He could see it around his hard co—_

"Your cord, "she broke his wonderful train of thought, damn.

"Cord is that what you said, or did you say something else?" His voice had once again a lewd ring to it.

She shook her head to keep her cool, he was so crude, and "Yes, your cord, the one you are wearing tonight. It is rather unusual; Isn't Fae work?

She asked as she tried to pull her hand away from him without any luck. He held it gently, yet with an iron grip. She was fuming at such intimate gesture. She looked at him coldly as he abusively pressed her hand against his lips, not kissing it, just barely moving it, to and fro.

"You would know best since you bought if for me." He smiled while kissing each one of her little fingers, and licking one by one, as if each were a little bonbon. She glared with extreme anger.

Each kiss was making him dizzy with lust, his cock was throbbing, and hard as steel; she tasted of something that suited him just perfectly. How wrong had he been?

The game was not to Hermione's liking, she wanted to get away from him. However, and unknown to her the cord was working its charm.

What they failed to tell her is that the witch had to be in his proximity while he wore the cord, and that the magic would affect them both; but only if their hearts were not taken.

Her heart was not taken, simply because what she felt for Harry had never been fed from his part, he had never set a claim on hers. But that is where it got tricky, she loved Harry, and the magic was a bit confused.

What she also didn't know, was that the Fae were not particularly fond of humans and loved to play with their emotions, and loved to set traps leading to scandalous affairs of the heart. Their enchantments often led to broken hearts if one was not virtuous. It was never true love, just broken hearts for those who were dishonest with their own feelings.

"Lord Malfoy, those are my fingers you are kissing, and yes, I bought it when I was a silly young girl," she tried once more to free her fingers, and he held firmly on to her wrist, and now he was pulling her towards him.

"Your bones are so fine and delicate, and please quit pulling and struggling. I am just showing my appreciation for your beauty, besides it is not my fault, it is the accursed cord." He smiled his most charming smile, which made him look like a hungry shark, okay, a very attractive and sexy shark.

"So how is it that a very young witch had the money to gift her older beau such an expensive gift?" He looked at her briefly while his lips stayed on their trail, to heavens knew where and now were near her elbow.

Hermione made the mistake to look at her arm, when she saw the tented robe, and she turned the color of ripe cherries.

He followed her eyes and smirked, "Tsk, tsk, it is just a show of how much you are affecting this old wizard. But do tell, please answer." He wanted her fingers wrapped around his length, and involuntarily, his hips lifted from the couch.

She could hardly talk, she wanted to go home, but she wanted more from him, she wanted to make Harry jealous, thus she answered, "My allowance, my trust, none of your business I didn't steal it." Why was he asking, it was rude.

"No reason, I am just honored that you would spend all your allowance to buy an old wizard such a gift," the astute 'old' wizard continued his kissing trail nearing her shoulder, making her a little uneasy.

"Quit trying to milk the 'old wizard' cow. At the time you must have been in your late thirties, and now you are what? Less than fifty, in wizards' ages, you are not even middle aged, not that you look it. You don't seem any older than thirty-five? Ok, enough said, no more fishing for compliments.

And she added, "Plenty of young witches fall for older wizards, it is a growing ritual. It is good that I am no longer naïve, and I know my chosen wizard's nature." She felt well for her comeback.

"So you are saying I look well?" He raised his eyebrow; his nose visibly flaring; his voice sounded choked; his breathing was labored, but he let her go, he needed to clear his mind. He was sure he was sick; otherwise he would not have touched her; he needed to remember her forbidden, tainted, dirty blood.

He didn't understand all the cord's magic and fell enthralled. He was not enthralled, and, in truth, he was hooked, because he had worn the leather time after time. And the moment his lips had touched her skin; he was a wizard in trouble, sadly, for the rest of his life.

The moment his lips touched her skin, he had finally activated the magic, and he had doomed himself. He would never, ever, be totally satisfied, and he would always miss her touch; unless/ he could have her, or unless he had true remorse in his heart.

Hermione sat daintily across him. He quietly drank his cognac and said nothing. He just sat there and for a few minutes, his eyes enjoyed the feast in front of them

"Knock, knock," A couple of polite door knocks were followed by." May I come in?"

It was the attendant.

"Sir we are so very, very sorry. We had to call a tailor; he is trying to match a color to the trousers. He needs to know what kind of fiber, he thinks cashmere, but he has never seen one woven in such manner."

What to say, "Yes it is cashmere. It was made of a bolt stored in one of my home's rooms." It was an accurate statement, except that half-fey weaver had woven it over three hundred years ago.

"Ok sir, please relax, something else for you. Peter, please come in."

A cart, with all types of finger foods was displayed.

"Dear Miss Granger, you know the food offered so much better than I; so, do you mind making me a plate? By the way, I cannot eat shell fish,"

He enjoyed seeing her serving. Mostly, because she was pretty, but also, because he wanted to feel superior; and he still felt that she was way beneath him.

She gave him a nasty stare, but she did serve him. They left bottles of carbonated and still water, a bottle of champagne, a small selection of red and white wine, and a pitcher of orange juice.

"No longer than forty five minutes, again so sorry." The attendant remarked before closing the door.

Once the door was locked, Lucius stood in front of her and grabbed her hands to pull her towards him. He had to kiss her, hell with the consequences.

Hermione couldn't swallow. "Please Mr. Malfoy, please sit down," and, with alacrity and stealth, she reached for the cord and tried to yank it out, but he screamed in pain as a discharge, like an electrical shock, ran through her arm.

"Ouch, damn, shite." The words rolled out his mouth.

"It teaches you for pulling my hair. I already tried that while you were serving me, and I could not even reach it. A good thing after what happened to you." He laughed.

And before she could think, his arms went around her, his lips kissed her neck, and he held her tight to his body.

Her body fitted perfectly on his hands. He closed his eyes in ecstasy, and feverishly caressed her shoulders, her bare arms, her waist, and then with gentle hands, he opened the clip. His eyes rolled back at seeing her bare chest, and a loud groan escaped his lips.

"Shh, don't say anything. Some things you cannot fight. I should be the one disgusted not you." He whispered.

That sobered her up, her hand came up, and nothing, her hand as if stopped by a wall, stopped at less than a quarter of an inch away from his cheek.

"Sorry my dear, I am being vulgar, I am just a nasty Death Eater, please forgive me." He actually felt contrite. Damn, after he nearly had her, and there was more than hurt in her eyes.

He bent and kissed her eyes. "By Hades, you taste like a flower," He rubbed his lips softly across her forehead her eyes, licked her neck, and his fingers touched her nipples with skill and care, and lowered his lips to her breast. At the same time, he pulled the dress down further; and she was on fire, no longer wanting to stop him.

"Dear girl, each of your globes deserves adoration, let me." His lips wrapped around one of her nipples.

His tongue circled each tip until they were fully erected; he suckled on them as he moaned, and his hand went to her bum and pulled the yards of fabric up. In seconds his hands were on her bare skin. She had low briefs made out soft lace, and upon touching her bare bum he cried softly. And she felt his hardness right against hers.

She tried to pull away and he held her in place. "Let me love you, it is right." His voice was soft and melodic.

"It is just my desire for you, touch it, I want you too." He pulled her hand towards his hard cock, and she refused to even look.

"Please Mr. Malfoy this is not right. You are married." His nasty words kept coming back to her, the ones that he should be the one disgusted.

"Not for long. Not for long. Only you and I in this room," His voice got to her.

She looked down, and she gasped, he was large and thick; and very, very aroused, twitching, and the slit was wet; and surprisingly, not the color of alabaster, but an angry red.

She closed her small hand around his cock, and his back arched.

"Your hands are magic, oh witch, what you are doing to me. I had not been this aroused since I was fifteen, my seed is already spilling; don't stop, please, please, yes, like that." He sounded vulnerable, almost human.

"Ah witch, this is really not the place, but I cannot help it," His breathing was heavy, and his hips thrust forward. He bit her neck, as he moved faster, and it didn't take much before he came on her hand as he groaned aloud.

She was horrified, twice this night, she had given Wizards pleasure, and this one, that she despised, was resting his forehead on her boobs.

She was wondering if he had fooled her, and he had done this to humiliate her. A free hand job for the Snake, gods…Harry…what had she done? She was sober at once.

If that wasn't bad, his next words made her want to be sick. She pulled away desperately when his hand closed on hers, and she was still holding his limp prick. She tried to pull away, feeling nauseous.

"Love, before I let you go would you allow me to kiss you." He sounded husky and was growing hard once more.

"That is rich, you have touched me virtually in almost every place, I am holding your penis in my hand, and now you are asking me for permission to kiss me? That is rich." Her eyes stung and tears threatened to fall, her parents' memory felt betrayed.

"Kissing is intimate, not to be taken lightly; I want to make sure you accept me," she forgot to pay attention and didn't hear the little part of you accept me. He had casted a charm to make her want him desperately if she said she did, and then, he would shag her, and let her go. He couldn't play fair. He wanted her but at no expense. He wasn't Draco; he would have her, and then he would be free from the wanton desire. He was conflicted, no longer sure of himself, and feeling a little dirty for touching her. At the same time, he didn't think that if he had her once, he could get over her.

Hermione let her pride go, but she felt a little woozy, and not sure why. Thus, she tiptoed, and he bent, the kiss started gentle lips gracing little bites, tip of tongue licking her lips, and he lifted he into his arms and took her to a couch by the fire, his lips upon her. He sat her on the couch as he went down on his knees, and he settled between her legs.

And he kissed her slowly, his tongue slithering around her mouth, making her moan, lips pressing harder and faster, his tongue caressed hers, and he cried; "Gods I have never wanted anyone as I want you right now. I have been a blind man. Your kisses are life, and they give me life. They make me want to live again."

He went on his knees, and lifted her skirt, and kissed the bared flesh above her tight, his fingers trembling as they moved the knickers to the side.

"So wet," he said and rubbed the lacy material in his fingers, and stuck his nose where his fingers had been.

When his tongue touched her sex she jumped. "Don't, you taste and smell of heaven, let me. "

She pushed him, covered herself, and moved aside, thinking about Harry, she couldn't let him touch her more.

He stood up, went by his chair, and sat with his head on his hands.

"What am I to do, you have ruined my life. You hate me, and I will not be able to bear to be without you."

She stayed there showing her breasts, in great disarray. Finally, she stood up, went to the loo, fixed her makeup, and was drying her hands when Lucius came in the bathroom and locked the door. He leaned back on the door, appearing out of sorts, yes, he looked distressed.

"Will you have me; I might die if you don't. Would you, even once? Although I am not sure that once will be enough." He ran the hands thru his hair, she was starting to feel bad for the powerful wizard in such a state, but his next words sealed his fate.

" I am willing to overlook your blood just to have you. Trust me, it is not easy, I have to get over the initial repulsion, to forget who you are." He wanted to tell her how low he was willing to fall for her. She heard it perfectly well, and her self-worth reigned for once that evening.

"No Lucius, I cannot, I am sorry, let me through. I wanted to earlier on, even a few seconds ago, but I cannot be with someone who thinks I am tainted. So you know, I love a wizard who doesn't know how I feel, and maybe he doesn't deserve me. You know in matters of love, we humans, make large allowances." He tried to touch her and she moved as far back as she could.

"You should also know that you were my early adolescence's dream, but you belong to your wife, to your world. You snobbish behavior was rather funny earlier on, when I was a child. But it wasn't funny when you called me a Mud—. Neither was it comic when you were disgusted at the thought of kissing me. I noticed it." She gave him a look of deep contempt, and he paled at her cold eyes. He was realizing the terrible weight of his words.

"And you just told me how hard is for you to overlook my blood; if I cannot hear that and allow you to use my body, I would be my own worse enemy. Maybe this is not our time. I am sorry but I cannot stay in the room, and I am going back to the dance floor. Be happy Mr. Malfoy."

The door, someone was knocking at the door, and Hermione opened the door.

"We are so happy he did a superb job, a fast worker. " It was her Godfather's secretary.

"Indeed they seem almost perfect and will more than do for tonight." Lucius answered, his voice flat, he glanced towards the door to see his life waking away from him. He deserved it.

He guiltily remembered that he had rejoiced when Bella had tortured her. Then he thought again, _albeit she had it coming, the pretentious Mudblood. _

At that thought, he turned red, _what was wrong with him, even after Harry and Hermione saved their hides he still looked down on her. He deserved what just happened to him; he had it coming._

He sat in there just a little while longer, his limbs heavy, and in his mouth, he could still taste her, not muddy, not nasty, but a taste of heaven forever denied to him.

* * *

X0x

I hope nobody judges her hard. Many of us make mistakes, and frankly, Lucius didn't deserve anything else, Oh well. I like to write different takes of Lucius, in this story he is rather slimy, and very prejudiced, alternating between I want her for my entire life, to I want her for now, to she has nasty blood. One more chapter after this, on Friday, and then I will chose from the finished stories. They are all a little different. Maybe one of Adrian and Hermione, or Draco and Hermione, or even my new Severus and Hermione, we will see. For those following MMates I have two chapters but I am reviewing them.


	5. The way things are

_Disclaimer: JKR owns HP._

_So here we are in the last curve. Hope you enjoyed this short. Nothing too deep or too serious. Not sure who won, you will be the judge of it.  
_

* * *

**The way things are**

Hermione quickly ran to the dance floor and found Williams waiting for her. Soon they were dancing, and when a slow dance played, he held her close to him.

Harry had been going all over looking for her, he felt ill, and wasn't sure why. When he finally found her, she was dancing close to the Muggle and something inside of him gave in. He saw her differently, with other eyes; and his eyes truly saw for the first time; and he knew the truth—he loved her, he loved Hermione, and he had fucked it up, royally.

He was being reborn, reborn to the love for the only one that matter; and he hoped and prayed that he wasn't too late. His mind went back to earlier that night, and he groaned—During the car ride , he had treated her wrong, like she was rubbish, what was he thinking? How could have he treated her with such little respect while Ginny was in the car… perish that inane thought; he had always taken her for granted and forgot about her feelings. He ran his hands through his messy hair; how deeply he regretted all the years treating her so poorly, as if she were of no importance.

"Harry let's go home, I don't want to be here. These Muggles are so stiff, and really, who do they think they are, they don't have magic. They are our inferiors." He heard Ginny, who was grabbing his arm and trying to pull him away from his vantage point. Ginny was angry to see Harry nearly drooling over Hermione, he always did that, and the last months, he didn't even kiss her.

Harry looked at Ginny with angry eyes, "I'm not leaving without Hermione; we all came together; and we will leave the same." Harry wanted Ginny off his back. And when the Muggle, leaned his head to rest his check on top of the dancing witch's head, and Hermione melted into him, he wanted Ginny gone. This wouldn't be happening if Hermione were with him. And now, she was letting the Muggle embrace her.

He was wrong; Williams had asked her if she wanted to go to a private club once they left from the party. Hermione wanted to take a rain check. She wanted to go home because something wasn't right, her insides hurt, and, perhaps, it was emotional pain.

"If you don't take me, I will go outside and send my Patronous home to father, he will come and get me." Ginny was ragging and angrily whispering to Harry.

"You do that," and immediately he realized that Molly would be furious, "wait, and let me tell Hermione I need to go."

Ginny smiled inward, she was going to play dirty and foul the contraception charm; it was baby time.

Williams was Dolohov's nephew, he had been educated at Drumstag and was in London to establish a net for moving dark art across the world. He had infiltrated the London Muggle scene since they were going to use them in their operations. William had studied a couple of years in a British University preparing for this role.

After, he had danced with Hermione, he finally remembered who she was; and indeed, she was beautiful, but he wouldn't tell his uncle. Hermione was his ticket out the family, it was enough they had that curse; the one that attracted nasty witches. Not for him, he wanted her, and he would have her.

While she went after the blond idiot, he decided to make her sick. The man reminded him of one of his uncles' friends that he had met when he was a young teen, a Death Eater by the name of Malfoy. He had a plan, by the time they arrived at the club, she would be feeling worse, and he would take her to his flat and would baby her. And as the night progressed, he would get her into his bed and make her pregnant. He would cast an enchantment that was nearly 100% successful. She would marry the father of her baby, of that, he was certain.

Lucius decided to go home, and he was going with his heart torn. For the first time in his life he had felt the pain of rejection. He had been upset at Narcissa's infidelities, and he was starting to look, but no more than that. Narcissa still allowed him access into her bed, and it was enough, but not after today.

Why had he called her Mudblood, he must be an idiot. Miss Granger had taunted him, and it was true, he was a bit reluctant to kiss her and be sullied, indeed, he was the one who was the e one. The realization of his nature opened his eyes for the first time. He had nearly earned the right to see her, and he had been his own enemy. She wasn't dirty, he was.

"Mr. Malfoy, " It was Bartholomew, Lord M., "My daughter Cecile informed me of the mishap earlier, I am so terribly sorry. I trust all is well; after all, I was advised that my goddaughter took care of you "

Lucius realized at once that Hermione was related to him, and his former behavior of years past rather shamed him. A man who owned this palace considered her family, and riches always meant something to Lucius; and this knowledge made him twice as sick.

"Have you seen her, I wanted to thank her." Lucius asked hopefully. Perhaps, he could make amends and have a chance to be with her.

"I am afraid she has gone with her friend," Bartholomew answered. He appraised the man in front of him, he was too old for Hermione; and he hoped he didn't have a romantic interest on his goddaughter; he seemed to be a shady character. And Bartholomew looked at Lucius a bit coldly.

Lucius saw the Muggle's look; Lord M. had sensed Lucius' interest and had qualified him not a good choice for the young witch; and the man was right.

Lucius knew he had seen the friend, Harry Potter; it was better that way. They were young and deserved each other. He had made his bed since a long time ago. And with his new realization, he felt sorry for Draco, a chip of the old block.

On the way out the party, he recognized Rita Skeeter and a photographer, and he was right to take picture of him for Kingsley campaign. They were in disguise, not really, but they looked the part of eccentric Muggles.

"Mr. Malfoy, she approached him, were you here with the lovely Miss Granger? We saw her coming out alone."

He didn't know why he answered grimly, "Maybe, but how could I, really Miss Skeeter, maybe is a big word, what would she want with me, she was the Belle of the Ball."

"Or was she with Mr. Potter who left earlier? "

"Why didn't you ask them?" He answered bitterly.

"I did, Miss Hermione wouldn't say," Skeeter told him rather upset for not getting a lead.

Harry took Ginny back home; they took a cab. And then used an Apparition point, "Ginny I am tired, I am going back to my home; this is not working out."

"Everyone is asleep, you can come in, or better we can go to Grimmauld."

"No we cannot, Ron is there tonight. I am going alone." He wanted her out of his life. He might have lost Hermione, but he wanted to go down on his knees and beg her to give him a chance.

Ginny was fuming, but there was nothing much she could, or was it? And she knew what to do, time to get pregnant.

Her arms went around his neck, and her hand fumbled with the thing they put in the Muggle trousers, with the metal teeth.

Harry moved her hand. "Ginny, no, I have a headache, it has been a long day."

She still didn't get the message, "If you don't come in, you will be punished for one month. I think you are pinning after that slag, didn't you see the way she danced with the Muggle. I will not let you touch me until Samhain."

"So let it be; goodnight. I won't be around for a while, this is over, but we will talk later. Dean was looking at you, and I just have a word of advice, feel free to see him, he is good for you. I have someone I need to talk to. See you soon." and Harry was gone as he Apparated away before she could say anything.

He Apparated straight outside of Hermione's room, but it was locked.

Disappointed, he went to the room always ready for him. The room wasn't totally dark, and... there was someone in his bed.

He walked softly hoping and trembling; it was Hermione; she had fallen sleep wearing nothing but a short silk chemise. He undressed quickly and lay by her side. He kissed her forehead with gratitude, "Hermione, my love, my only love, can you forgive me for being a fool. Please, say yes." Tear running out his eyes, he was cold, so cold and shaking. He was rather afraid.

Instead of answering, she whispered, "I nearly went away with Williams, and at the last minute, I saw Herr Schmidt. He came towards me and told me he didn't like the looks of Williams, and for once, I decided to listen, and I agreed that he was right. Williams might not be a Brit, he is pretending. He reminds me of someone, but I am not sure of whom."

She was crying, "I cannot do this any more, I feel cheap and bad, what we did in the car was wrong, but I just want to be with you." She cried and told him about Lucius.

At one point, Harry laughed reminding her of the white arse, and then both laughed at his pretentious and hateful remark of being grossed out to kiss her. Making light fun of the event, healed her heart, and soothed Harry's jealous beast.

"All you need to do from now on is to allow me to love you, and for you to love me. I broke up with Ginny, and it was long overdue. I was a child and not a very smart one. Dear Miss Granger, I know this is too soon, or maybe too late, will you marry me?"

Before she could answer his mouth was making love to hers. His tongue caressed hers in wild passion, wanting to erase the snake's flavor. He covered his body with hers, caressing her entire flesh with his. They rolled around the bed, kissing and touching and wanting more. His had moved flat on her belly, "You are bare and I have never seen it, may I," he cast a Lumox with his hand.

He went on his knees, "Bad naughty witch, and you did this for whom? No, don't tell me, it matters none, I am the one seeing it."

He saw her eyes of pure naughtiness when she answered, "It was for whoever was my lover tonight. Do you meet that qualification, and the answer is—we shall see; you will need to convince me."

Harry froze, "You won't marry me," his lip quivered, the same when he was afraid at night.

"I said that you needed to convince me, so start, now." She opened her legs a little more to afford him a better view and bit her thumb, knowing this drove him wild.

"No thumb, I have something better, " he told her, how predictable, she laughed.

"And what is that and better for what?" She teased him and sucked her thumb.

He said nothing, bent forward, and bit her inner thigh gently, making her jump. "Better to have you with, my love," he said as his tongue moved up, and both groaned.

He lapped and tasted her, with his hands under her he pressed her closer to his mouth, she squirmed, " later, later, too much foreplay, I am ready."

At her words, a current of desire went thru both, and they cried at the same time. "Open the drawer, I put them there," she meant the condoms; since she spent more time in the non-Magical world she was more careful.

"No need," He pulled his wand. "I want to," and before she could protest, he casted the condom over him, and in one fluid movement he was inside.

"Gently, darn, you are big, give a sec," she shuddered at the feeling and relished on the feeling, the first pain soon turning into pure pleasure.

"My love, my love," he thrust wildly while kissing her neck, went on his knees, and pulled her thigh over his shoulder, wanting to see their joining. "You and I, gods, nothing is like it." His eyes heavy with lust and pleasure, and he couldn't keep them open. "Look my love," he asked her, seeing his cock glistening, entering and leaving her, "Hermione, my love, it feels right, yes, come."

Hermione thought it had never been like this, so hopeful, his body in hers, "Harry, you love me?" She wanted to know.

He told her, as he came, and her body clenched around his. Her contracting muscles made him groan loudly, this was heaven. His tongue licked her face and then kissed her. As they were coming down Harry felt a small tongue licking his foot, "Down girl, down," he said.

"What are you talking about," Hermione asked annoyed, and both laughed at the dog's happy bark. "I love you." Both said as they fell asleep still joined to each other. Later, Hermione woke up to Harry, he was holding her leg up and thrusting into her softly, when he felt her awake, his hands closed over her breasts.

"Marry me?" he kissed her neck.

" I am thinking, " she mumbled.

"Bad witch, you will say yes? I won't let you sleep until you agree."

"I might take me a while to say yes," was her answer.

Ginny didn't go into the house, and instead she went to see Dean. She knocked the door at his flat and he smiled when he saw her. She entered his home and smiled at the opulence. He held her tight to him, and she knew she had come home.

"I love your dress, you look like a princess. Never wear witches robes again, this is truly exceptional." He said lowering the shoulders of her gown.

"I only have this one." She whispered.

"I can buy you all the ones you want. I have made a lot of galleons and have invested them well. Whatever you want is yours. I told you if you came tonight, it was for keeps; if you are not planning to stay, just go now. If you stay, we are marrying within two months, I told you that." He answered, lowered the dress' front, and moved his lips over her nipple.

"Yes, I know, I missed you, " Ginny said. Money aside, she had missed him and realized Harry was a pipe dream, not where her heart had been. And she had told him the truth; this was the only Muggle dress she had.

**Several weeks later**-

"Miss Granger, thanks for your honest interview, everyone wants to know about you these days. So, Williams Dolohov leaded you to the Dark Wizard who killed your parents. He is something of a hero."

Hermione smiled mysteriously and laughed, "Yes, in a round about way. And I am glad it is all working for him. "

"May I tell the readers of your good news? It is official? "

"Yes, the wedding is in two weeks. We decided to make it a Muggle affair with a small reception the next day for our Wizarding friends. It is in honor to my parents, they died early this year. Harry and I will be living in both words, as it was their wish. And Harry as the new Ambassador for Muggle affairs will be quite busy. " She smiled again, and he held her shoulder tighter, he loved her so much.

"Yes, that was the other question since Mr. Potter took his job; we heard that Lucius Malfoy has left his wife, and he has been courting you. We also heard his son broke his engagement, both have left to visit one of the islands to think of how to mend their ways; and according to both, it is all thanks to you, Miss Granger."

Hermione and Harry had not heard of that. A strange chill went down her back, and the couple looked at each other with concern. They remembered the snake and his spawn during a recent visit.

Lucius and Draco had come for a visit. Harry was tired of their nearly daily visits, always laden with something or other from their hothouses, gardens, and always their gifts were thoughtful and caring. At the end of their last visit Lucius gave a little speech.

"We Malfoy wizards are quick studies, and we understand how we lost the chance to the smartest and powerful witch from at least one hundred years. But life has many twists and turns; husbands stray and they are caught; accidents do happen; widows are made daily; and who knows, who really knows. And after all, one must be ready to be lucky; and for us, Draco and I, it requires for us to rethink our wayward ways. Mr. Potter, don't be naive, and better, never think a marriage makes her yours for all times. You were blind for a long time, and who knows, blindness comes in bouts, doesn't it? We have to go, much happiness; and here is your wedding present. Have examined for curses, I would do that." And he broke out laughing along with his son; they all did; it was a little creepy.

After the interview they went to look for Bill Weasley, who came over and examined the picture, "Nothing unusual, nothing to worry." He left and went to his vault, he checked, and indeed the deposit had been made, 15,000 galleons, a year's salary. Lucius had promised it was not nefarious. The picture wasn't cursed in any case, and he didn't blame him; Hermione was a prize to be had; and all was fair in matters of love.

Weeks later, Lucius and Draco sat in their island waiting for their favorite show, They sat in front of a large mirror, and Draco stood to get the drinks, "Son, hurry, she is done with her bath, and she is taking her towel off. "

Hermione had placed the painting right above the mirror in her dressing room, it was perfect for the spot, and a compulsion told her where to place it. She had just come out the bath, picked her clothes, dropped her towel, and stepped in front of the mirror to get dressed.

Harry would be going to many troubled areas; and they had time, for now they drank rum drinks and watched their favorite witch; they were two snakes waiting in the sun for the Belle of the Ball.

The End?


End file.
